Time for some tear soup*

*The title should be fair warning, continue on without kleenex at your own peril.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. 

Tomorrow I will spend a lot of time missing my mother.

Tomorrow I will cry when we sing "each flower, dear mother, reminds me of you" in Primary, it's inevitable.

This week on Facebook a lot of people have put up pictures of their mothers' for their profile pictures. I'm not going to lie, it's been a little confusing for me. Especially in cases where I am friends with both the person and their mother. I think it is a wonderful way for people to honor their mothers though, and several times this week I've wanted to put up a picture of my mother for my profile. But every time I sit down to the computer and start looking at the pictures of her I have on here, I start bawling.  After a week of this I decided it might be cathartic to share the ones I couldn't decide between and tell you why they mean so much to me. 

I love this picture with four generations of my family. My grandmother, my mother, myself and Genevieve. I have a copy of it on my fridge where I can look at it everyday and take comfort in knowing that this eternal family stretches for generations in both directions. It makes me feel connected to part of a greater whole. Plus it was taken on Evie's blessing day which is a wonderful memory.

This is my mother brushing my hair while I was in labor with Lila. I think one of the most comforting and relaxing things in this world is having someone brush my hair. This picture brings me back to a time when my mother could soothe my pains with a soft touch and gentle word.  I also think about how lucky and blessed I was to have her be there with me as I gave birth to each of my children and the bond that created for both of us. 

This is the only picture we have of my mother with all of her grandchildren. Every time I see this picture I am just in awe of my brother's talent, and so grateful that he was able to capture such a beautiful moment. You can just sense how thin the veil was as sweet new spirits joined our family and my mother was preparing to go home. It touches something so deep in me, such joy and such sadness can only be described as sacred.

This last picture is a candid that I took during the last week or so of my mother's life.  The thing I love about it is how my parents were holding hands. This room was always full of visitors and people coming and going, but the sweet and simple connection of them holding hands just speaks of the wealth of love they have for each other. I feel so blessed knowing that I was born to these two people who chose to be together, who overcame struggles and shared that strength and love with me, and everyone that was a part of their lives. 

I love my mother so much. Sometimes I miss her so much it becomes a physical pain. Sometimes it is so hard not to scream at the unfairness of it all. Sometimes I am just grateful for the time I did have with her and the wonderful relationship we shared. I am so grateful for the knowledge that someday I will be able to see her again, because sometimes a girl just needs her mom.